


speak now or forever hold your peace

by trekmemes (ProblematicPitch)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F, First Dates, Friends to Lovers, Holodeck Character, Holodecks/Holosuites, Oneshot, Social Awkwardness, mild jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProblematicPitch/pseuds/trekmemes
Summary: Originally posted March 27, 2019 onmy blog herefor the prompt "we shouldn't have gone in the holodeck".Kira has some urgent information to relay, and accidentally walks in on Dax's holo-date.
Relationships: Jadzia Dax/Kira Nerys
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	speak now or forever hold your peace

“Where’s Dax,” Kira demands, already halfway up the stairs.

“Holosuite three,” says Quark, who knows better than to hesitate. “I wouldn’t interrupt her if I were you.”

“I need to talk to her,” she insists. “Open the doors.”

She stumbles into the room. The scene is a vast field, starlit. A full moon glitters overhead. Breezes caress her cheek and ruffle her short hair. It feels so—so real, and she pauses for a moment, briefly forgetting why she’d come here in the first place. Holosuites were disorienting like that.

She sees a pair of figures in the distance and jogs towards them. The image sharpens as she gets closer—it appears to be a lovely little farmhouse lit from inside with warm, flickering light. Dax is there, standing beside some kind of shiny terrestrial vehicle. She’s wearing an elegant, flowing white dress. It’s as totally unlike her usual stern uniform as any article of clothing could be. Kira can see her talking to a woman with long honey blonde hair, who’s wearing a sort of rustic yet clean-cut outfit.

“I’m sorry to bother you this late, doctor,” she hears over the wind. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t absolutely urgent.”

“Dax!” Kira calls to her. “I have to ask—”

“I know, my love,” the woman responds, evidently unable to hear Kira. “I promise everything will turn out all right.”

“There’s nobody I trust more,” Dax replies. They embrace, and then the woman has her fingers tangled in Dax’s dark hair and they are kissing like there’s no room for air. 

Kira freezes mid-stride. She must have made some sound of surprise or astonishment because Jadzia breaks off the kiss to look at her. Dax pauses and grins that dazzling grin. “Hey, Nerys! Care to join in?” She winks, shrugging off Kira’s awkwardness with her trademark humor. Typical Jadzia.

Kira flushes bright red. “I uh—I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in.” She never stutters like this. The use of her given name gives rise to a confused swirl in the pit of her stomach. She feels dizzy, and like maybe her arms are going numb. Her fingers knot of their own accord, crossed behind her back, and her fingernails bite into her palm. She can’t take her eyes off Jadzia, or the pretty doctor with her hands settled on Dax’s waist. The hologram looks back at her, expression neutral.

Dax’s smile is softer now, but mischievous lines around her eyes betray her. “No worries,” she says gently.

A soft rain begins to fall. Kira tries very hard not to notice Jadzia’s hair curling around her face in a frizzy halo, or the way the sheer fabric of her dress clings to her skin. “I... should go,” she manages. Her tongue feels strange and clumsy in her mouth.

“Computer, remove character,” Jadzia orders. The doctor vanishes. The stillness falls between them, broken only by the patter of rain on the hard ground. “You can stay,” she says—affectionate, teasing—“if you want.”

Kira swallows. She shouldn’t stay. Jadzia is a colleague, a friend—a good friend. She doesn’t want to risk ruining the kind of friendship she has never before had the time to enjoy. 

But she can’t shake the image of Jadzia’s laughter, or how soft her lips looked pressed against that other woman’s. She can’t ignore how Jadzia tips her head back and laughs at her jokes, or the warm feeling that rushes into her when their eyes meet. She can’t forget how Dax’s hand sometimes lingers at the small of her back, or how much she wishes to take that hand in her own.

“I suppose I can stay,” she ventures, unexpectedly shy. “Just this once.”


End file.
